My friends, it has been long since I wrote. It is not that I did not wish to, but that there were other things to do, and my lady has much upon her mind, things which preclude the peace for writing together. It does not mean that we have not been together at our Home, for that is always our way, though my lady’s earthly consciousness does not know it, not without the time to make memories arise, which she has no longer.
I am speaking in my own fashion, and my lady thinks “Run-on sentence” and I laugh, for I do not care about those conventions, not truly. Let it be as it will, I can say as I will, persons know my meaning.
I should speak of our holiday on the earthly side, when we visited friends in the cities of Los Angeles and Chicago. It was a splendid journey, not the travelling, which is as uncomfortable in its way as anything I recall from my earthly days. Then, one could alight, and have free movement, but had much discomfort and cold in the coach; or one could ride, and know the strength of one’s horse, but pay in weariness and weather. Now, it is concealed from weather, and warm or cool, seeming with no reason, but there is no true room to move, nowhere to stop and rest, and no true sleep to be had. It is a strange thing, wondrous for the machines, but not a thing I would choose, for myself, were I bound to the earthly plane. I know not what I would do, for I have no love of being upon the sea. Perhaps I would command friends to visit me. It would be just, my lady and I have travelled much.
We had but a week to spend with our friends, the sisters in spirit we know from times past, visiting, and writing much, though less now than before, for lives are busy. The visit was to be in Chicago, where my lady had been but once, and Leslie not at all, and to see things there we did not know. It is a great city and there is much to see; one day we will visit it in Spirit, where all things are the finest, and the best is not lost. My mother’s portrait is in its Art Institute, but we shall not need to see that, for she has had later and finer work done, and I know it well.
What to say of our journey? I know my lady wonders if I shall write a diary, all the things we did, for she does not remember specific things, and wonders if I shall recall them, or if it is her memory playing games. She thinks of all things as a test, instead of trusting herself.
Our first night was peaceful, in Leslie’s house. We slept upon that most comfortable couch, having been cleaned, and eaten, and cast off the grime of travel. No, I do not mean I felt it as such, but it is a thing I do not forget, and would not do now as I did then, and sleep clothed in a hurry to travel on. Perhaps I am old, I like my comforts now, in Spirit, when discomfort is not a thing I need feel!
We went Home that night, and did work in our garden. My lady said it felt well to move and stretch and work, though her earthly muscles would gain nothing from it, but mind and spirit did.
Before sleep, we had eaten with Leslie and her beloved, and her mother and her sister, and taken great pleasure in seeing them again.
The flight to Chicago was a slow thing; there was a problem, a mechanical thing that did not work, and took one hour to be resolved, so we arrived most late in that city. It was fortunate that Leslie had thought ahead and arranged a bus, so we had not to wait, or try to travel on a train, or have the expense of a taxi, for the airport is not close to the city.
The hotel where we stayed was a fine thing. It was not handsome in an old way, it was bare, the modern look, but most clean, and quiet, and the persons serving were welcoming and civil. The bed was hard, but not so hard to deprive one of sleep, and it was a pleasure to lie in an earthly bed of width, before waking in my bed of comfort in my house, and spending the day, that is the earthly night, with my lady, and our beasts. I say beasts but my lady thinks, “Is that another word for owners?” which is truth.
I will speak more of our journey soon. My lady wearies; it is not an easy thing for an earthly person, to do this work.